This is a wee poem I wrote in 2016, it was inspired by this tweet by the Scottish poetry library; https://twitter.com/ByLeavesWeLive/status/799618192960266240
and was a freeflow response to the tweet, unfortunately I couldn’t tweet it without breaking the 140 character rule, so I scribbled it down and then posted it on my Facebook to share with friends, as a bit of fun.
Also, I should add, it was also inspired by a true story.
I saw Santa staggerin’ doon the street.
He was shouting an’ swearing & making weans greet.
The things he was saying, Were nasty an’ crude,
He was really quite obnoxious, an’ extremely rude.
In his hand was a bottle of Bucci,
Which he waved about, wi a shout of,
” come an’ have go If ye think yer, lucky!
Ma names Santa, an’ a don’t care!!
come on an’ sit on ma lap if ye dare!!
If yer naughty, I’ll gi yer arse a wee slap
If yer good, I’ll take ye back ti ma flat”
Over his arm was a Tescos bag.
Filled wi cans of cider, and a carton of fags.
Which he raise ceremoniously, telling all,
“iv got ma swag!”
His red tracksuit was dirty and covered in stains
His beard, long an’ mangled, with food remains…
His hat tho torn flashed With l.e.d lights
As he sang jingle bells with all his might
by his staggering dance, I admit all were entranced
As he swayed about singing as he pranced
Yes a strange Santa Claus, at whom everyone stared.
Cos, it’s not what you expect to see,
on a July afternoon, in the town of Ayr.!
junei96.com 